


Unresolved Trauma

by AnonCoward



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Existential Crisis, I'm not sure where this is going, M/M, No beta - we who are about to die salute you, Tags Subject to Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonCoward/pseuds/AnonCoward
Summary: Jack doesn’t trust Hamish. And doesn’t know why.Jack can’t abandon Hamish either. And doesn’t know why.Midnight has some opinions.





	Unresolved Trauma

_He remembered the first death - dimly. There had been so many over the years, but he had to assume the first one was meaningful. A kindness at the hand of a littermate._

_When the infant twins had tumbled into their dam’s cave they’d been accepted by their mother as two more hungry children. He’d spent his earliest memories snuggled close to furless skin. The bare-skinned ones were slow to age and before long they’d needed a second caretaker as the rest of the litter became adults. Their dam had allowed the shepherd to take them. And while the boys might not have been wolves, they were pack and that was what mattered in those times so the wolves had followed on their heels._

_Their hands were clever and kind. They’d pulled burrs out of their pack’s fur, brought them food, and medicines for sickness. The pack thrived with their brothers’ care. He’d returned the favor as best he could, watching over the twins with his white furred brother at his side. They were well aware of the irony. Two shepherds watching over a flock and two wolves watching over the shepherds._

_But the boys aged so much more slowly than they did, and his bones had ached even as the twins reached their full height. When they were attacked he hadn’t been ready. And his teeth were long and fur thick but limbs old. And when one of the twins was taken, he’d been left bleeding in the middle of the field. His brother had slipped long clever fingers through his fur and whispered kindness in his ear. He no longer spoke in the low grumbles of wolf. He hadn't for years. There was pain at his throat and darkness closing in. Midnight remembered little after that._

_That was a lie._

_He also remembered when his brother killed his brother._  
  
* * *

Jack woke up thrashing.

Unfortunately for him, he’d passed out on the couch in the Den last night after something Hamish called a ‘Last Word’ and he tumbled sideways on the hardwood with a yelp. His flailing arm caught the coffee-table on the way down bringing down two heavy glasses and one textbook on his head to complete the morning wakeup call.

Fortunately for him, everyone else was passed out and hungover too. He hoped.

He groaned into the floor.

Warmth and weight settled across his back with a soft canine huff in his ear, and Jack kept his eyes closed. That had been happening more often since he’d bonded with Midnight. Every time he looked there was nothing there. Right now the weight was keeping the floor from tilting sideways and the fur he was feeling against his skin was warmer than the bathrobe he’d stolen from the hotel.

“Oh god - Jack - my **eyes**.”

“Oh **god** \- Killith - my **head**.” He groaned into the floor again, then fumbled for the textbook to throw it blindly in the direction of her noise.

“It’s a nice ass, Jack, but there’s no reason to flash it.”

That was Randall. The fur on his back huffed in irritation and vanished as the weight of a crocheted afghan landed on him. Jack rolled over to clutch the blanket closer. “… It’s too early for this.”

Lilith snorted into the bowl of cereal she was digging into. “Not that early.” She flicked a crunchy marshmallow in his direction. “You are so hungover, Jackie-boy. I mean your dad did just go up in flames and you got your lifelong mission done.” She smiled showing sharp teeth. “And y’ain’t even old enough to drink yet. Now what?”

Jack hauled the blanket over his head to shut out the light and missed his fur.

The blessed silence lasted for most of breakfast as Randal and Lilith claimed the couch and crunched cereal over his head. They were at least kind enough to let him be hungover in peace. Though he heard the occasional wet slurpy noise as the two sucked face.

He yanked the blanket down enough to eye the two, “When did **that** happen?”

“Sometime between you dying and you pretending to die.” Hamish’s voice cut through the hangover. There was a clink sound on the other side of the coffee-table and a hand bearing a highball glass appeared in the corner of his vision. “Hair of the dog?”

Jack took the glass and rolled the rest of the way over. “… you ever consider that you might have a problem?”

“Never.” Hamish downed his own drink. “Drink up.”

The lurid green liquid tickled the back of Jack’s memory as something that lived in the Order’s bar. He wrinkled his nose at the licorice scent but obediently gulped it down. Forced it down really. It left him gagging. “What the fuck was that?”

“Chartreuse.”

Lilith snickered into her cereal. “Y’ll learn not to drink everything he hands you.”

Hamish set the green bottle back on the bar and returned with two bottles of water. “It’s medicinal. Brewed by monks for over four hundred years.” He opened a bottle and handed it to Jack before taking a seat in his armchair. “Besides, cocktails were invented to treat hangovers in the morning. So, drink up.”

Jack sat back against the leg of the couch and gulped water. “… Are you sure you’re not an alcoholic?”

“Functional.” Hamish saluted him with his water bottle.

“Guys, guys, no fighting -” Randall leaned in, “Last night was **awesome**. We should do that again.”

“We should **never** do that again.” Jack was echoed by Lilith and Hamish.

“Jinx. Owe me a Coke.” Lilith nudged Jack’s shoulder.

“Seriously though Jack,” Randall leaned back. “As your RA. Now what? Sounds like you’re sticking with us, and Cannon Fodder. You gonna stay with the Order? Belgrave? Change your major? Ask Alyssa out on a date? We can totally run interference for a date.”

Jack stared at the bottle in his hand as the floor started tilting again. Pop’s five year plan didn’t apply anymore did it? He didn’t even **want** an MBA. “… I don’t know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Last Word: Shake equal amounts of gin, green Chartreuse, maraschino liqueur and lime juice with ice. Pour through a strainer and serve.
> 
>  ** _I'm as sure of where this is going as Jack is... this should be fun!_**  
>  Irregular updates but I'm aiming for per weekend.


End file.
